


you can repay the favour

by tsubomis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, it isnt proofread so let me know if there are any obvious mistakes hehe, its silly but i love being soft, some day i'll finish a serious thing. today isn't that day, sometimes u get sick and share that misery lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsubomis/pseuds/tsubomis
Summary: “you’re running a fever, but i reckon you’ll pull through,” mccree says with a grin, still within touching distance.“that’s a generous prognosis, doctor,” genji hums, "i was starting to get worried."





	you can repay the favour

“not quite like how my ma made it, but she’ll do. it’ll fix you right up.”

genji shakes his head with a smile and pushes back against the bed to sit up against the wall. the warmth of the soup that mccree passes over with a gentle hum of pride makes him feel human enough, but the building pressure behind his eyes is hard to take away from. the smell is amazing, or so he assumes, his senses are dulled and he’s tired, something terrible stings his burned out sinuses, but mccree went to a lot of effort for him and it isn’t unappreciated. it reminds him of home, of hanamura; if he were to close his eyes and concentrate hard enough, he’d surely remember similar times he spent in bed as a child, fussed over and tucked up. a little older too, but those occasions were more frequently due to frivolous nights out than common sickness. part of him misses the wildness of the nightlife there, part of him is glad to have found real peace at last. 

genji sips gratefully under mccree’s watchful, yet kind eye. they’ve come a long way from their blackwatch days, scathing and lost, grasping at the closest thing- each other- to comfort they could find. nothing was ever simple, but navigating the difficulties of surviving and, much more than that, enjoying their lives had become easier over time. genji sighs and lowers the bowl, lips pulled up into a small smile. 

“your mother was a wise woman.” 

mccree laughs, low with a rumble like an old gasoline engine, and leans forward to rest on open palms. there’s a fondness in his eyes then, something sweet and distant in a dream-like way. genji wonders what he’s thinking about. his idle thoughts are answered after a beat, like mccree’s running on the same track- it’s a common occurrence these days. the thought makes something in genji’s chest squeeze, a vice grip around his lungs that catches his breath. it’s probably just whatever virus he’s fighting. 

“that she was,” he says with a hand scratching at the scruff on his chin, like he’s deep in thought about it. “this one time, i got sick after foolin’ around in the yard late one night, dead of winter.” genji watches with rapt eyes as he speaks, all while taking careful spoonfuls of the magic broth. he hadn’t much of a clue as to what was in it, ‘secret recipe,’ mccree had said and he was too drowsy to muster up a compelling argument. everyone had their secrets. if he remembered, maybe he’d ask him about it another time. “hadn’t seen much snow before then, but we’d had some bad winters. anyway, the genius in me decided it’d be grand to muck about in it.” he follows where this is going and hums in acknowledgement over a mouthful of soup, allowing the warmth to bumble up his spine and settle his irritable nerves. “felt like i couldn’t breathe when i woke up, so ma says she’ll handle it, like she does most things. not sure i appreciated it enough back then,” mccree’s voice hangs heavy in the room for a moment, then he sucks in a breath through his teeth like a whistle and shakes his head to rid himself of the bad feeling. kids are just like that, genji thinks about saying. he doesn’t. he isn’t sure it’d be welcome. 

they settle back into a comfortable silence as genji finishes his meal and mccree fusses over a few things, neither here nor there, in the background. the scene is almost comical to him, that two trained killers might succumb to these little domesticities as the rest do. a window opens sometime after genji folds the blanket neatly to his waist, the winter chill settles on his skin like a layer of ice, but it’s more rejuvenating than oppressive. 

“i think,” he starts, adding a smile when mccree turns his gaze back to him from his seat at the windowsill. he shines in the evening light, blossoms, transforms into the most handsome version of himself. radiant is the first word that comes to mind. genji swallows the thought down to allow himself to continue. “that she would be pleased enough to see you carry on her tradition.” a brisk breeze blows through, curling up the ratty curtains. he shuts his eyes to enjoy the sensation and opens them only when he feels the mattress dip somewhere to his right. mccree’s open palm moves towards him but stops just shy of touching distance, his mouth drawn into a pensive frown. “may i?” he says, and it’s the sweetest thing he’s heard in a while and so very mccree. even in their more volatile days, when they’d grasp at each other in the dark, in the fragments of peace they’d find between missions or training, they’d always been careful of each other. they didn’t touch without asking, even if mccree was far more affectionate with his other friends. he was almost pointedly easy-going in his mannerisms, a carefully cultivated atmosphere of just the right amount of confidence and bravado, but he wasn’t a fool and cared deeply for those he loved. loved. was there love between them? genji murmurs an okay and leans into the warm touch of mccree’s palm on his forehead. mccree tuts and genji notes the way his hand drags softly down his temple as it’s pulled away. 

“you’re running a fever, but i reckon you’ll pull through,” mccree says with a grin, still within touching distance. 

“that’s a generous prognosis, doctor,” genji hums, “i was starting to get worried.”

they both laugh, the kind that creases the eye and makes your shoulders shake. it isn’t that funny and there’s a good chance that mccree finds genji’s feverish laughter more humorous than the joke itself, but his spirits feel lifted and he’s too beside himself to care otherwise. he feels a warm puff of air on his cheek by the time he thinks about how close they are. he could reach out, cross the line that lingers heavy in the air between them. it could be his imagination, but they’ve been here before, lifetimes ago. 

neither moves, they just share a tender, easy gaze, until mccree lowers his head to focus on fiddling with the blanket at genji’s waist. “i missed you,” he all but whispers, as though he were offering a choice to hear or deny the declaration. genji raises a hand from his side slowly, telegraphed so that mccree could easily move from it, and twines his fingers with those twirling soft cotton. “and i, you.” 

the kiss is badly choreographed, mccree hovering over genji’s legs to his right, the awkward reach it takes to make their lips meet at all, but very real. the dull throb in his head makes him lean back and mccree doesn’t chase him, which is probably for the best. it was a terrible decision, but not for lack of love. he hears ziegler in his head, chiding and stern, and it makes him laugh a little too loud. 

“feeling better?” the heavy leaden feeling in his skull doesn’t simmer, just burns, bright as hell and twice as fierce but he shrugs to avoid the worry. “getting there,” genji hums, letting his head drop back on the pillow with a soft thud. “you are no doctor ziegler, but you will do.” he tacks on an ‘i suppose’ at the end and mccree digs a finger into his ribs. so much for bedside manner. their hands remain tightly clasped together and in the moments that pass, genji praises whatever force exists that brought him to this moment. 

“jesse,” genji says, with a smile to rival the warmth of the sun, “thank you.” 

mccree’s lips brush his forehead to leave a tender, comforting little kiss before he unfolds the blanket back over him. “anytime, sweetpea,” he hums, then pauses and sits back on the bed. lips pursed, genji leans forward again, but this time it’s mccree’s turn to laugh. “you can repay the favour when i’m sick.” 

“only if you’ll teach me that recipe, cowboy.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
